


Fleeting Touches

by highlytrainedfangirl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, They are so a couple, even if they don't realise it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:39:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highlytrainedfangirl/pseuds/highlytrainedfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>At first John thought that the small, casual touches were just something Sherlock did. But after seeing him interact with more people he realised that wasn't the case. Sherlock rarely touched other people, especially if he could avoid it. But with John, the accidental brush of fingers as he handed over objects, or the press of arms as they walked side by side, were all too common.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Why did Sherlock, who always went out of his way to avoid physical contact, always seem to do the opposite with John?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fleeting Touches

They weren't dating. At least, John didn't think they were. But then nothing had been straight forwards since meeting Sherlock Holmes. Everything in his life had been turned upside down and shaken up. Not that he was complaining.  
But John's exact relationship with Sherlock was still something he wasn't entirely certain on. Of course, John swore to everyone that they weren't a couple. Really, he'd been introduced to Sherlock as an unfeeling psychopath, he couldn't really go round telling people that he had romantic feelings for him.  
After knowing Sherlock for sometime he knew that what people said wasn't true, that much was clear to him fairly early on. Yet, despite the fact that many believe Sherlock incapable of emotion they still assumed the two were together. Even people meeting them for the first time together thought they were a couple.  
Maybe they had a point. Most people don't assume everyone they see together are dating. Especially when it's two men. That's just the way that society tends to think. So the fact that _everyone_ thinks they're together… Well that must mean something.  
John would be lying if he said he wasn't interested. He'd certainly made that clear enough on their first meal at Angelo’s. But Sherlock shot him down. He said he was ‘married to his work’. After the initial disappointment and slight embarrassment, the two still continued on together. They solved crimes, lived together and, they made one hell of a team if John did say so himself. 

At first John thought that the small, casual touches were just something Sherlock did. But after seeing him interact with more people he realised that wasn't the case. Sherlock rarely touched other people, especially if he could avoid it. But with John, the accidental brush of fingers as he handed over objects, or the press of arms as they walked side by side, were all too common. Sherlock didn't seem to hesitate to make contact with John.  
It was confusing. Sherlock shot him down and yet all these little gestures seemed to suggest differently. John didn't want to let himself get hopeful. Sherlock already told him he was not interested in a relationship. So why did he act like this towards John and only John?  
Over time he noticed that the touches decreased, almost ceasing entirely. John wasn't stupid, he knew the decline has been related to him starting dating.  
When he'd been dating Sarah the touches had, if anything, increased. But as the number of girlfriends increased the touches decreased. John had started dating as a way to distract himself from Sherlock but he was always being dragged away from dates by dark curls and high cheekbones.  
If John was being honest with himself, he found himself missing the casual contact.  
Eventually he gave up dating. It was useless. In the end he would always choose Sherlock, even if it was just as friends. John threw himself at the cases and over time the small touches returned, but they were different from before. Sherlock’s movements were no longer certain. Instead every brush of fingers seemed to genuinely be accidental. Sometimes Sherlock would rest his hand on John's arm for a moment before realising what he was doing and jerking back like he'd been electrocuted.  
This puzzled John even more. Sherlock always knew what he was doing. He'd never seen the detective lose himself like this.  
The new, uncertain touches continued for about two weeks before Sherlock began to gain in confidence again. 

They started one morning when John came downstairs and began making his coffee as normal. Noticing that Sherlock wasn't up yet he'd busied himself making a second cup, knowing without having to think how Sherlock liked it. As he picked up the mug and turned around to carry it to Sherlock’s room, he came face to face with the man himself.  
“I… Um,” John was startled by the sudden appearance of his flatmate, “ made you coffee.”  
He held out the steaming mug in his hands, gesturing for Sherlock to take it. Sherlock just nodded his head in thanks, wrapping his hands around the mug, also entrapping John's own hands beneath his.  
A beat went by as the two stood in silence, neither moving.  
“Lestrade called this morning,” Sherlock pulled away, releasing John's hands, “minor case, nothing interesting, but he insists that Scotland Yard need my help.”  
The morning continued as normal from that point onwards, as if nothing had happened.

He next noticed it when they were at a crime scene. Sherlock was stood even closer than usual, their sides pressed together as they waited around for the forensics team to show up. Even through the thick wool of the detective’s coat, John could feel the body heat radiating off him. Sherlock was rambling, muttering something about the incompetence of Anderson. Just a typical day for the two of them. So of course, neither of them saw any reason to move apart. Instead they enjoyed the feeling of being close together.  
John would certainly have been lying if he denied being disappointed when Sherlock finally stepped away, already engaged in a verbal battle with Anderson. 

The touches continued like that for a while, to the point where John didn't even realise he was doing it himself, sometimes. It became normal for the two to walk and stand side by side, barely any space between them, and every time they passed each other something hands would linger much longer than necessary.  
It felt natural for the two to act in such a way, and no one else even seemed to notice the difference between them. Or at least, if they did, no one bothered to say anything.

One added bonus to this that John could never have predicted was the unveiling of the detective’s softer side. After a particularly stressful case Sherlock and John were enjoying the quiet taxi ride back to 221b when a head found its place on John’s shoulder. Sherlock had done his best all throughout the case to hide how much it was truly affecting him, but the moment the two were alone in the cab the mask dropped.  
Only a few minutes passed before Sherlock allowed his head to drop and rest on John’s shoulder. Soft, dark curls brushed up against the side of his neck and warm breath danced faintly over his skin. Everything in that moment felt so peaceful and right. Neither man spoke, but neither man needed to. Instead John watched with a contented smile as the breathes evened out and eyelids fluttered closed. Sherlock drifted contently into sleep as careful fingers began to run slowly through his hair.  
Yes, John could definitely get used to this.

They didn't speak about it afterwards. John couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad. He presumed the former though, as throughout the weeks following Sherlock continued to do the same thing. Every cab ride after completed cases, Sherlock rested his head on John's shoulder, tired or not. The nights when they sat together on the sofa, Sherlock would find any excuse to sit as close to John as possible, sometimes practically draped over his lap.  
John really wouldn't have minded any of it, really he was loving the small, intimate moments, but he just wished that Sherlock would talk to him about it. It was impossible to tell the inner working of that man’s mind. But, as much as John wanted to understand, it wasn't a conversation he was certain he wanted to have.

The moment that prompted John to finally confront Sherlock came on a morning that started like any other, except that as Sherlock accepted his coffee from John, he leaned down and gently kissed his cheek. It was just a feather-light touch, barely even there. And yet John felt the imprint of soft lips burned into the side of this face. If it were possible for his heart to literally jump out of this chest, John was pretty certain that it would have. In reality, he stood stock-still, breath caught in his throat, watching in bewilderment as Sherlock proceeded with his morning routine.  
After a moment’s pause, John did the same. He couldn't think of any other way to respond. Throughout his day at the clinic he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering to how exactly he was supposed to even talk about that morning with Sherlock. No matter how hard he tried, the conversations all seemed far too awkward.  
The day went by and evening came and still, John was not sure what he was going to say. Entering the living room, he saw Sherlock standing at the window, a far away look in his eyes. Well, it was as good of a time as any.  
“Sherlock?” The detective didn't turn around and gave only a ‘hmm’ in acknowledgment. But if John was doing this he needed Sherlock's full attention. “Sherlock, please could I just talk to you for a few minutes. Look at me. Please Sherlock.”  
The taller man resurfaced from whatever depths of this mind palace he'd been in and turned to face John.  
“What was this morning about?”  
Sherlock's brow creased, “you're going to have to be more specific than just ‘this morning’.”  
“You... You kissed me.” There was something strange about saying it out loud. Like that suddenly made it real.  
“Yes.”  
Was that it? Was that all that Sherlock was going to say? Reading the irritation on his face, Sherlock began to speak more. His voice lowered and took on the tone that he typically reserved for deductions. “I believe that was a perfectly normal gesture.”  
“Maybe if you're a couple, Sherlock, but friends don't act that way. It's far too,” he struggled trying to think of the correct work, “intimate.”  
“And yet I have been making increasingly intimate moves towards you for the past two and a half months. Not once have you rejected any of these moves.”  
John's response was mumbled under his breath and he wasn't sure whether he'd actually wanted Sherlock to over hear or not, “I never said that I was complaining, just that friends don't act that way towards each other. That's all we are right now. Friends.”  
Seconds ticked by before sherlock was able to work out the meaning behind what John was saying. Sherlock slowly walked towards John with a smirk on his face, “well, I'm sure that can be amended.”  
“I'm sure it can.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh that ending is so bad I'm sorry


End file.
